Rabid Duality

Visions apparant,

red lights flicker,

a portal closes of potent

portraits of petals

pendants of pedantic tulips,

and glass,

that brushes off pine.

A car horn blares,

or is it a Cake

B-side?

The vinyl skids and slips,

the light’s been a shade of forest

for a New Year, at least.

Tranquility slides into rabid madness.

Rapidly rising blood levels

my long left blood lies on leaves,

maple, dried, framed,

preserved

in the amber of memories

Choked,

enclosed

from a bygone era

I am my own anthropologist,

but with better sundresses.

Michael Carney